aidez moi à vivre
by lavalieres
Summary: When sundered strangers stumbled through the doors of his cafe, Ryou was not too surprised. If Ryou could, he would save them all. But not all strangers are willing to be saved. [Yami no Bakura x Ryou Bakura, AU]
1. Good Night

**aidez-moi à vivre  
****By Halys

* * *

**

Few knew the existence of Ryou Bakura's café—affectionately called Amane's by its owner—but those who did were always gifted with great coffee and even better service. The café, which Ryou was proud to call his own, had a warm atmosphere, accompanied by soft lighting and comfortable furniture. The snowy-haired young man had made an effort to give the world a small corner of comfort in an otherwise uncomfortable world.

Ryou was a quiet man by nature, but was ready to listen to whatever distresses the customers might have. Those who sought the warming outstretched arms of the little coffee shop were encouraged to be themselves. Here there were no inhibitions and no pain that one could experience in the outside world.

There were a few unspoken rules at Amane's. Asking Ryou about his past or about the café's name was strictly forbidden. Not because Ryou forbade it, but because every time the topic was broached, the man's sparkling jade eyes would dull to a heart-wrenching hazel.

The saddening features aside, the lack of information regarding Ryou tended to be another aspect that drew people to the warm surroundings. Ryou was almost an enigma in his quiet kindness, a wall that could not be broken, and a mirror that would reflect a person's true nature.

Amane's was truly a hole-in-the-wall sort of place. The very few newcomers that strayed inside were either wayward travelers or staggering drunks. Ryou didn't mind. He always had a warm cup of coffee ready, a kind smile gracing his features.

So when strangers stumbled through his doors, he was not too surprised. If Ryou could, he would save them all, even if only by offering a warm chair and a warm cup. But not all strangers are willing to be saved.

mnmnmnmnm

Ryou wiped his hands on his apron and glanced around the small café. It was nearing midnight and there were scarcely any customers remaining except a panicked college student, trying to get in a few more hours of studying and a lonely street person, seeking shelter from the cold.

A chance look out the window would've given Ryou a view of a vacant street, clouded with mist and fog. A few street lamps gave off a dim ring of glow, here and there, but not enough to make anything visible.

Above, a lonely star winked through the cloud cover, offering an eerie shine beside a mist covered moon.

Most people had taken shelter for the night, preferring not to wander the dark street where anything might roam. Ryou didn't mind. He liked evenings like this. Since he was a young child, he had had a strange fascination with all manner of things dark. His near obsession with anything occult was startling to the few people who were aware; Ryou was a quiet man who was considered a source of light and purity. If he was a man to scoff, he would at the odd assumptions made about him. But as with anything, he would shrug it off.

Ryou didn't like to admit it, but he was lonely. His family long since gone, he had no one to share life with, but he lived on, attempting to give love and kindness to others.

An exasperated sigh broke his thoughts. "Man… I better just give up now if I want any sleep. Thanks, Bakura, for the coffee."

Ryou turned to the sandy haired college student, walking towards the table to help the teen clean up his books. "It was no problem, Jounouchi-kun. I hope that you do well on your test," he replied in his soft British accent.

"Eh… I'll probably bomb it again. Hopefully Mai won't kill me though… Our anniversary's coming up and I was hoping to… well, you gotta promise not to tell anyone! K?"

The jade-eyed young man smiled. For sometime he had been able to see the romantic, if sometimes humorous, courtship of Katsuya Jounouchi and Kujaku Mai. Despite their frequent squabbles, it was obvious that they were made for each other. Ryou had a feeling he knew what Jounouchi was planning, but prompted him anyway. "Of course, Jounouchi-kun. You know I wouldn't tell a soul."

Jounouchi leaned in conspiratorially, and whispered, "I'm gonna propose to her. I got the nicest ring, too! It's not huge or anything, but I bet she'll love it!"

Ryou grinned in response. "That's wonderful, Jounouchi-kun! I'm sure she'll say yes!" He could almost giggle at the look on Jounouchi's face. The teen's eyes were clouded over in the most ridiculous love struck way.

Jounouchi shook himself and grabbed his things. "Thanks again, Bakura! I really appreciate it!" Ryou merely waved his hand dismissively.

"Anytime, Jounouchi-kun. Now be safe out there! Mai-san will kill you if you get hurt!"

Laughing, Jounouchi sauntered out the door, leaving Ryou to glance around the shop again. The street person staggered to his feet and gave a slurred 'thank you' to him before heading out as well. Now, the only occupants of the shop were Ryou and his thoughts.

There was no sound but the occasional gurgle of the pipes and the ticking of the clock. Ryou stood, preparing to close up. He grabbed his cleaning cloth and set to work at the tables, removing coffee stains and stray grains of sugar. Soft chiming announced the midnight hour, and a jingling of the door notified Ryou of a customer.

Pondering to himself about who was arriving at this time of night, undaunted by the eeriness outside, when so many others would be safe at home. Ryou walked around the counter where he worked and saw a man collapsed on his floor. He hurried to him, and picked him up.

"Sir? Sir? Are you ok? Sir?" Ryou's jade eyes filled with a slight panic as, at first, he received no response. Ryou really began to worry as he saw cuts, bruises, and tears covering the man's body. He gasped, pulling the man into a chair and hurried to fetch some bandages and a cup of coffee.

Returning, he found the man studying him. Ryou could have gasped again, seeing the startling resemblance that they shared. Both had pale strands of mithril hair, both were about the same height, and both had hidden pain in their eyes that no one could see.

There were differences, of course. The man's eyes were a stunning cinnamon tinged with anger and madness. Ryou's had always been a calming sea of green that would sparkle occasionally as the sun touched its surface. Ryou had to stop his hand from gliding to the man's cheek. Before, Ryou had never thought of being attracted to anyone with so many other thoughts on his mind, but this man—this stranger—was beautiful.

Blinking away such thoughts, he tended to the man, cleaning and bandaging his wounds. Ryou didn't ask what had happened. It was none of his business and if the man felt like sharing, he would. Oddly, the man merely sat there, studying him, not even wincing as the café owner dabbed alcohol in his deep wounds.

When he was finished, Ryou sat back and stared at the man. Dark eyes calmingly took Ryou's face in, still no words exchanged between them. Ryou finally broke the silence. "Would… would you like a cup of coffee? Or… something else?"

The man's eyes took on a different gleam, one that Ryou could not recognize, but he shook his head no. Nodding, Ryou made to stand, but a hand stopped him. Turning to the stranger, Ryou looked in his deeply colored eyes, again seeing an emotion he could not place. He nodded and sat beside him, quietly waiting for what ever it was that the stranger wanted to share.

Still, no words were spoken, and dawn began to approach. The stranger glanced out the window, sighed, and stood. Ryou scrambled to his feet, trying to stop him, shouting, "You shouldn't leave! You're still very hurt! If you want, I can take you to the hospital or you can stay here, but you shouldn't go out again!"

The man turned to Ryou and brought a bandaged hand to his cheek. "I cannot stay," he whispered, and Ryou shivered at the alluringly deep voice the man had. "There's something that I have yet to do. Thank you for your kindness. Good night."

Before Ryou could speak or stop the stranger, his odd look-alike leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Maybe," he whispered, pulling away. "Maybe we'll meet again."

With that, the stranger left the shop as the first rays of the sun began to peek over the horizon. Ryou watched the man go, but blinked and he was gone, dissapeared into the shadows. Flabbergasted, Ryou brought a hand to his cheek, his fingers lightly caressing the skin that the stranger had graced his lips upon.

"And maybe," he whispered. "Maybe you'll tell me your name…"

* * *

Notes:  
On my characterizeation of Ryou Bakura: I chose to have his eyes green because I believe the color suits Ryou more. His eyes are show as green in the First Series of Yuugiou that was never shown outside Japan, except for as fansubs. 

I also chose to keep Ryou's Dub accent because I feel that suits him as well.

Also, I will be using Japanese suffixes because, otherwise, it is difficult to demonstrate how completely polite Ryou is. He is the most polite character in the show and I felt the best way to keep with that politeness was to use the suffixes. Otherwise, there will be no more use of the Japanese language in this story.

And finally, the title of the story translates litterally to _Help me to live_ which can be read as _Save my life._ The title is proper French. Je parle français depuis cinq ans et mon meilleur ami est français.


	2. Letter

**Aidez-moi a vivre  
****By Halys

* * *

**

Ryou was never a superstitious man. He did not place faith in ridiculous ideas or concepts, but while people scoffed the existence of the supernatural, Ryou knew what truth was.

* * *

The door of Amane's chimed, as two familiar figures strode through the entrance. The two had their hands entwined together and their attention directed solely on each other. If Ryou ever doubted the existence of love, he was easily reassured by a glance at these two, for nothing else could describe what the two emulated. 

The slighter of the two figures finally turned away from his companion and spoke. "Hey Bakura-kun! How are you today?"

Business had been slow, allowing Ryou's thoughts to wander to the previous night's odd events. Ryou could not purge from his mind the vision of the beautiful stranger. Who was he? Where had he come from? How had he sustained those wounds? Would he return?

Ryou shook himself and glanced up at the two from his seat at the register, jade eyes meeting a sparkling pair of indigo.

"Hello, Yuugi-kun," he replied softly. "I'm fine. How are you?"

Ryou' eyes traveled to Yuugi's companion. He was nearly identical to Yuugi, from his leather attire to their multifaceted hair, yet the other man's stoic stance, air of disinters as well as his darker demeanor characterized him as very different. It never failed to confuse Ryou how two so completely different—yet so alike—could have found a bond. Ryou had given up trying to explain and settled for a simple answer: Opposites attract.

"Oh! I'm great! Atemu and I are going out tonight!" At this point the darker of the two actually smiled--at Yuugi of course--as he slipped an arm around Yuugi's waist.

Turning to Ryou, Atemu smirked. "I have a surprise for Yuugi that I'm planning to spring on." He winked. "A very special surprise!"

Yuugi laughed, poking Atemu affectionately in the ribs. "I can't get him to tell me, the jerk!" he pouted.

"Aww, but I'm your jerk, and you wouldn't have it any other way!"

They both laughed, eyes sparkling with the love they shared. Ryou couldn't help but grin at the couple, as they made their way to a love seat in a quiet corner.

Ryou smiled again, remembering how only one short year ago, Yuugi had been a lost and lonely young man. Daily, he would come to Amane's, sit in one of the darker corners, and always ordered the same cup of black coffee. Ryou would sit with him occasionally, easily able to connect with him over their shared loneliness. But to Ryou, it didn't seem right that Yuugi should be alone.

One day, however, another young man, sharing Yuugi's appearance came to Ryou's café and sat in Yuugi's typical corner. He, too, ordered a cup of black coffee. His demeanor was intimidating for Ryou, and so he avoided him. The man was above everyone, yet just as weak. He seemed to be missing some form of guidance that Ryou could not offer.

The day Atemu came in, however, Ryou knew that he would find his guide. Not long after Atemu arrived, Yuugi walked through Amane's door, his gaze ever fixed on the floor. But as he approached his usual corner, he looked up.

Ryou had been astonished with how much was exchanged between the two with merely a glance. He was no fool, and knew that they were drawn to each other.

It pleased Ryou, knowing his small corner of the world presented a meeting place for the two. He was content to watch, knowing his coffee made a difference in two men's lives.

Atemu and Yuugi also had a new usual, which Ryou was more than happy to make: one hot chocolate with cinnamon, and one vanilla latte with cream.

mnmnmnmnm

Ryou sighed. He didn't mind when there were no customers. Lack of business was never a problem financially, thanks to his father. He wondered sometimes, though, how safe it was for his sanity. He was already scorned for his pale hair and complexion—though he never took it to heart. But late at night, as he sat in the almost completely dark shop, he fancied that he heard whispers and believed himself mad.

Standing from his seat in a corner, Ryou shook himself of pessimistic thoughts and walked to the counter.

The counter was one of the odder pieces of furniture in Amane's. Not only was the space designated for the serving of coffee and tea, but at one end was an antique till. The area around the old, silver register doubled as his desk. Here he sat, pulling out a loose sheetof paper. Ryou pulled a pen from a nearby container and brought it to his lips. He paused in thought before placing the pen on the paper.

_Dear Amane, __  
__How are you? I'm pretty fine. A lot of people are getting engaged around here, which is nice to hear._

_Business is fine as usual, and I've recently received a fairly large shipment of Egyptian coffee. You'd like it. They serve it very very strong and with no cream or sugar. I thought some people might like it._

_Not much else has happened, although, a strange man came by last night. He was injured and I cared for him. He then left before the sun rose; he must have somewhere important to go. I'll probably never see him again. But I wish I could've learned his name…_

The clock chimed the witching hour, and Ryou stirred from his thoughts. His jade gaze swept to the door, half expecting it to open, but he snorted and turned back to his letter. While signing his name, the door chimed, announcing a visitor. Ryou looked up at the door again. Frowning, his gazed slid to the floor, and he gasped.

On the floor, was the stranger, broken and bloody as he had been the night before. Once again, Ryou rushed to aid the man, however as he approached, the stranger murmured in his alluring voice.

"You can't save everyone, you know."

Ryou blinked, startled again by the man's voice, but he quickly regained his composure.

"I know," he whispered softly.

The stranger struggled to his feet and stumbled half heartedly to a near by chair. He slowly eased himself into the warm cushions, grimacing over some of his wounds. Ryou rushed forward, bandages ready, but the stranger held up a hand.

"You can't save me," he said, a hint of a threat in his voice.

"...I know..." Ryou whispered again, eyes traveling to the floor.

"Then why bother?"

"I have to try…"

"Fool… You'll only set yourself up for a fall." The stranger's voice turned frosty, hard. But Ryou could have sworn there was something more…

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," he said, eyes gliding back to meet the dangerous russet of the other man.

For a moment there was silence.

Then, "Ch. Fool. Get on with it then."

Ryou nodded, gently tending the stranger's lacerations. With each new cut, however, Ryou felt as though he was experiencing deja-vue. He shook it off and finished his task.

As he prepared to stand, the stranger's hand upon his chin prevented him. Inwardly, Ryou cursed the pink stain that darkened his pale cheeks. He stared into the other's cinnamon eyes for what seemed to be an eternity.

Finally, the stranger broke the silence. "Hn. You're such a fool. Cute, but a fool none the less."

Ryou opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. "Shut up; I'm not done. Anyway, it's in your eyes, you know. They lay bare to the world your cute, foolish soul. I'd watch out if I were you. Someone might want to want to snatch you away."

The stranger was torturously close now, and Ryou could just barely feel the flutter of the other man's lashes on his skin. He drew a breath and held it while the man grinned. Ryou nearly gasped when what seemed to be a pair of fangs glinted in the low light, but the moment passed and there was nothing. He leaned back and slowly released the breath he had been holding.

Smirking, the stranger rose from his seat and glanced out the window. Again, the sun's rays were beginning to make their appearance and the man sighed. "See you later," he muttered, and made for the door.

Ryou could not stop his hand as it reached out and grasped the stranger's hand. The man whirled around, eyes flashing murderously. "Let me go," he growled. The jade eyed man obeyed instantly.

"Don't do that again. Understand me?" the stranger continued, voice yielding a dangerous tone.

"I-I'm sorry… I just…" Ryou trailed, not sure why he had done that.

"What?" spat the man.

"I just… wanted to know your name…" he whispered, afraid to meet the man's dark gaze. Two fingers lifted his chin, however, and he met the man's eyes.

"Bakura…" he said.

"Huh? How…"

"Shut up. My name is Bakura."

And suddenly there were lips on his. Wet, warm, soft lips, and then a soft probing for a deeper kiss. Ryou unconsciously yielded, but as he began to respond, Bakura pulled away. "I'm off… see you later, fool. Oh and by the way, she sends her love."

Ryou blinked, and opened his mouth to respond, but Bakura was already out the door and had disappeared into the shadows. He tilted his head to the side, confused by the stranger's—no, his name was Bakura—last words.

Before he came up with an answer, a letter slid though the door. Ryou walked towards it and picked it up, staring at the writing on the front.

_To 'nii-san, love Amane...

* * *

_

-nii-san: respected big brother 


	3. Our Distance and that Person

_For the person who put this story in the yugiouvampires C2, I appreciate it, but please don't assume things about the plot of this story, especially after only two chapters. Bakura is not a vampire. kthxbai.

* * *

_

**aidez-moi à vivre  
By Halys **

* * *

Ryou never closed _Amane's_. It was one of those unspoken rules the customers had come to expect. No matter the holiday or event, _Amane's_ stayed open, ready to take in those who sought the warmth. Except for one day of the year, when Ryou would close the shop, cut a bouquet for flowers from the outside garden, and walk 3 miles to a local cemetery.

There, he would remove dust from a small plaque among many others on a particular wall. He would remove the dead and decaying flowers, replacing them with the new. Finally, he would shove a thick stack of letters in the nearby box.

Other than that, Ryou never closed _Amane's_.

**mnmnmnm**

The pale haired man stared out the window, contemplating the weather. Five hours had passed since dawn and precipitation had misted the window pane, making it difficult to see. Clouds with no silver linings filled the sky, and the street outside was stained a tar black, rather than its typical muted grey.

If Ryou were to look in the mirror, he'd see eyes of liquid green, lined in exhaustion, and pale cheeks with dark streams of wet stains. Ryou didn't need to look in his hands to see what was there. In the left was a tightly clenched sheet of paper, lovingly lined with a gentle scrawl. In the other, a sign. One side displayed a faded _Open_; the reverse, a nearly new _Closed_.

Ryou hated rainy days. As he stared out the window, rain ran down in rivulets down the glass. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but all Ryou heard was the torrents of rain and screaming.

Heaving a sigh, Ryou placed the sign in the usual spot and stared at the side facing him: _Closed_. A jingle of the door and two shouts announced a presence. Ryou quickly shoved the letter in his pocket, wiped his face with his apron, and turned to greet the visitors.

Two men—one with a shock of red hair, the other with chestnut locks that jutted heavenwards—were bickering over the best location to purchase motorcycle parts.

"Amelda-kun, Varon-kun," Ryou interrupted softly. "Would you like to come inside? I have some towels for you to dry off…"

The two young men halted their bickering to shake water form their hair and clothes.

"That'd be great, Bakura-san!" said the brown haired man.

Ryou nodded and hurried to the back of the café. He grabbed some fresh towels from atop the dryer, pausing to better dry his tears and refresh his eyes. Upon return, he found the young men still bickering.

"Motorcycle parts?" he interjected in his soft accent. "I don't know much about motorcycles, but I know someone who owns a shop…"

The two gave a shout and demanded the name of the shop. Due to their enthusiasm, they did not hear the jingle of the shop door. The appearance of a new visitor did not escape Ryou's eyes, and he turned to smile warmly at the man. Standing tall, with soft locks of spun gold, the man had an arrogant swagger in his step, one that was afforded by a man of his stature. What's more, the man had an exotic appeal to his features. Slanted iolite colored eyes, lined in dark kohl, swept over Ryou and his guests.

"Good morning, Bakura-kun," the stranger smiled at Ryou, his voice belaying more of his exotic nature with its foreign accent.

Ryou nodded his head respectfully at the man. "Good morning, Isthar-kun."

"Bakura-kun. How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Malik!" the man smirked. His exotic eyes lingered on Ryou's features, nearly making Ryou flush.

The two young men, who had previously returned to their bickering, turned wide eyes on Malik. Their voices raised again in a jumble of exaltations.

"Malik? The real Malik? As in, the Malik famous for his motorcycle racing?"

Malik winked at Ryou, who laughed. "Yeah, you could say that's me. Is there something I could do for you two, or is it ok if I order my coffee?"

Ryou's eyes glittered in amusement as he bustled to the counter. Malik followed him, shaking his head at the two young men that had all but fallen over to talk to him, asking him for suggestions and the like.

"Guys! Guys! Chill! I guess I can help you in a moment, but I really need some coffee, ok?" Malik winked again at Ryou, trying to hide a grin.

Ryou busied himself with the espresso machine as the two young men babbled to Malik. He pulled out one of the new packages of Egyptian beans that he had recently received and went about grinding them. Listening slightly to their chatting, he readied the coffee and poured a cup for Malik. Ryou handed it to him with a smile.

"Wow, Bakura-kun! You really did get the import! Just like you said!" The tall Egyptian exclaimed, leaning across the counter to get closer to Ryou. "What do I owe you?"

The pale-haired man merely smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "This one's on the house." Ryou turned to the others. "What would you two like?"

And he returned to the espresso machine as a chorus of orders met his ears.

Once the Varon and Amelda had paid for their orders, Ryou sat behind his till and watched the trio. Already, a discussion over parts and racing techniques had began, and while Ryou would have enjoyed being a part of the discussion, he really didn't know much about it. Instead, he was content with watching and listening.

Eventually, Malik had to return to his shop and his two fans had to go about their ways. But before they left, Malik approached Ryou. "Thanks a ton, Bakura-kun. Not only for the coffee, which helps when I feel homesick, but also for the chance to meet these kids."  
He smirked. "I've got two new apprentices now."

The tanned Egyptian made his way to the door, before pausing. He turned back to Ryou, a look of concern gracing his features. He laid a hand on Ryou's shoulder. "By the way, Bakura-kun… how are you? I mean aside from the shop and all, which you know I'm always willing to give a hand. But how are _you_."

The jade eyed man did not miss the inflection on the word "you" and worked his lips into a soft smile. Wiping off his hands quickly, he waved at Malik dismissively, but could not hide the coloring that appeared in his cheeks. "The same as always, Ishtar-kun. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. You better go though, unless you want that excitable pair to get to your shop before you do…" The soft smile never left Ryou's face; he had had much practice to get it right.

Malik frowned gently, but nodded. The motorcyclist knew it was none of his business, but he couldn't help but feel somewhat protective of the more petit man. The café owner had something about him that Malik found himself drawn to. The idea of an aura of tainted light came to his mind on occasions such as this. He lingered for a moment before shrugging it off, and giving Ryou's shoulder a slight squeeze. Then, he headed out the door.

Ryou released a sigh of relief, setting his cloth down and letting the façade slip. Malik had always been kind to him, offering to help with any work the shop might've needed. And he always came in at the same time. Ryou enjoyed the company, but found holding up the smile at all times slightly tiring.

Leaning against the counter, he put his chin in his palm and stared down at his distorted reflection in the bronze countertop. He blinked slightly, and tilted his head a fraction to the left. It was amazing how when he shifted ever so slightly his appearance better resembled the wayward stranger that had come by the past two nights.

Throwing down his cloth in disgust, Ryou marched around the counter into his empty store. The large couch in the corner looked very inviting, and he took up its invitation. A soft 'fwump' was emitted as he settled down, able to gaze out the rain streaked windows while still being able to relax. Ryou didn't really want to think about the letter in his pocket, but it kept coming back to him. Along with the words of his midnight stranger.

_"Oh, and by the way, she sends her love…"_

How could a complete stranger have known? And how had a letter come to him from a girl who had been long since dead? Tears came to Ryou's eyes again, and he shook them away as much as he could. He really shouldn't dwell on it. It was quite possible, after all, to keep in contact with those that no longer dwelt on the living plane. Jade eyes narrowed in determination. He was sure of it.

**mnmnmnm**

As the hours swept by, the storm outside picked up its tempo and pace. It drummed and chimed a dark and broody melody on the tin roof of Ryou's café, as well as on the street outside. The café owner was found sleeping in the couch he had settled in earlier, with darker lines of tear stains trailing down his cheeks. There were no sounds in the dimly lit coffee shop aside from the occasional drip of the coffee makers, the soft humming of the heating system, and its owner's gentle breathing.

If it could feel, speak, or breathe, the café would be glad to know that the one who put so much time and effort into it was receiving some much needed rest. Warmth and soft aromas of dark liquid pleasure swirled gently around Ryou as he slept, alluring him deeper into sleep.

The clock on the wall felt the need to disturb the gentle peace and chimed the witching hour. The young man on the couch shifted, slowly waking up, his jade eyes blinking away the last remnants of sleep. He glanced over at the source of the noise and noted the time. When it registered in his mind, he let out a small yelp and made to stand, only to fall onto the floor, face first.

A coarse laugh filled the small café. Ryou scrambled to his feet and searched for the new source of the noise.

There, in the same seat he had occupied in his previous visit, was the dark stranger, Bakura. Ryou could feel his cheeks flush as their eyes met, and Bakura continued to laugh.

"And here I thought you were graceful… I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

Ryou's flushed cheeks only darkened more.

"Well, what are you standing there for, gawking?"

Immediately, Ryou rushed to the stranger's side, inspecting for any wounds. As he suspected, Bakura was covered in cuts, scratches, and other painful inflictions.

"I'll be right back," the café owner said hastily before he disappeared into the back room. Upon reemergence, he found Bakura staring at him. It was somewhat unsettling.

Kneeling before Bakura, Ryou began cleaning and bandaging the wounds like he had done the last two nights. He came to a particular cut on Bakura's left arm and paused. Ryou could've sworn that he had not only bandaged that particular cut before, but had made sure that the bandage was tightly wound so the cut would stop bleeding so heavily. He had also added a few salves to aid in the healing process. But this cut… it had no appearance of being attended at all. It was almost as if…

Gasping, Ryou quickly examined more of the other injuries adorning the man in front of him. They were all the same. None of them appeared to have been attended and they were all fresh.

The café owner backed away quickly, staring up at Bakura. The man simply smirked. "I did tell you, but you insisted. Took you a while too."

"W-What are you?" Ryou breathed.

"Wouldn't you like to know? And what makes you think I'd tell you? I'm not very fond of people asking questions, if you haven't learned that by now. Like I told you before, you're only setting yourself up for a fall…" As he spoke, Bakura's voice shifted from an annoyed tone, to that of one hinting concern. Ryou wasn't sure what to think. The man was just too much of an enigma.

Bakura continued, his voice now taking on a bitter tone. "You really are a fool, you know. Always extending your self out to the aid of others." He scoffed. "You cannot help everyone; you cannot help me. There are just some people that are beyond your reach…"

Ryou's mouth worked open and closed in surprise as Bakura spoke. When the last words left the stranger's lips, Ryou paused to think quickly.

"Then… Then why do you keep coming back here?" he asked softly, eyes drifting to the floor.

"What makes you think I want to keep coming back?"

"I…" he didn't finish his sentence, but he wasn't sure what he was going to say anyway. Why did he want this rude, pretentious, mysterious man to keep coming back? And why did he want him to stay?

"Y-you kissed me…" he finally muttered.

Bakura stood from his chair, wincing slightly, and moved towards the slighter man. Ryou was amazed at how quietly he walked, as if he glided.

"Why did I kiss you?" Ryou nodded meekly. "Aside from the fact that you're cute… I told you, it's your soul." At this point the darker man had leant forward and was whispering in Ryou's ear. A few fingers found their way into Ryou's soft pale locks, petting ever so softly. "You've got such a pretty pretty soul. Sure, it's a little bit tainted and shadowed here and there, but it's still very pure. How do you do it, hm? People like you are so very rare…"

His Adam's apple bobbed gently as Ryou swallowed. "What are you?" he half croaked.

"Unfortunately, someone who is drawn to people like you. I'm surprised that you're not backing off or running by now. Most people freeze in terror when they so much as feel my presence."

Ryou began to shake slightly, and he might have run from the man in fear if it wasn't for the gentle hand soothing him by running through his hair.

"I… Are you…?" He couldn't bring himself to voice it. Ryou was not stupid and knew that there was more than what existed beyond the physical realm. The crinkled piece of paper still crumpled in his pocket was proof enough. Jade eyes were clenched shut in apprehension. To his own surprise, he almost tilted his head lightly, as if to give more access.

Bakura began to laugh, which did not help in calming Ryou. "No, I'm not going to eat you. I'll leave that for some of the lesser beings. And if I were to eat you…" he leant forward again, his cold lips brushing across the shell of Ryou's ear in the softest of caress. "I would have done it by now, because people like you are ever so sweet…."

Ryou tried to back away, but he found that a strong arm wrapped around his waist was preventing him. "Please…" he whispered eyes wide and panicked. "Please… I just…"

The stranger pushed Ryou away abruptly and snarled. "You know, sometimes I hate people like you. Always so selfless, not even bothering to protect yourself. Do you know what I am?"

The slighter man shook his head.

Flexing a hand, twisting it in an almost grotesque manner, Bakura gave a Cheshire grin. Again, Ryou had the impression that they were a pair of sharp incisors, glinting faintly in the soft light, but his mind betrayed him.

"I am nothing. A mere shell, if that. I'm often confused for a blip in electromagnetic fields. The remnants of a person who has long since gone. People call me a phantom, spectral, spirit, wraith, a shadow, but I prefer to keep it simple." Bakura heaved a careless shrug. "I'm dead… and I'm a ghost."

Ryou's hand reached behind him to grab something to prevent himself from collapsing. He could feel his knees buckle beneath him, and he half sat, half fell into the seat behind him.

"But… How?" Mixed thoughts raced through Ryou's mind faster than he could complete them. He settled for the first thing that came to mind. "If you're a ghost… how is it that I can touch you?"

Bakura sat down in the seat in front of Ryou, and the later man noticed that Bakura was not completely sitting. There was at least a half an inch between him and the chair. How had he not noticed that? And now, come to think of it, he noticed that Bakura's clothes looked like they belonged in a museum. Ancient clothes from a ancient era. How had he been so blind? Had he, in his haste to aid the man--no, spirit--in front of him, that he had completely failed to notice such blatant details?

"It's rather simple," Bakura's grating voice cut through Ryou's thoughts. "You're one of those few people in the physical world that have that ability. Don't tell me that you've never felt at least the presence of your sister when you left all those letters for her."

Come to think of it, Ryou had often been sure that someone was watching him once a year as he made his routine stop. The pale haired man felt tears come to his eyes as he thought about all the times he was there and could have spoken to her… to see at least one time the sparkling eyes of the beautiful girl he had loved so dearly.

"Don't mourn over her. She wouldn't like that."

Ryou's apron made its way to his face for another time that day, wiping away stay trickles of opalescence. "Tell me about her, please?" he beseeched the spectral man.

"I can't. As much as I love breaking and bending a few rules, I simply cannot. It was dangerous for us both as it was to deliver that letter…"

A hand tightly grasped the crinkled paper in Ryou's pocket. "I… thank you…"

"You know, you really are too naive. I didn't do it because I wanted to. I owed her…." Their eyes met, and jade searched the depths of deep wine, but Bakura didn't elaborate further. Instead, he stood. "I'm getting sick of all these questions. And your naivety is beginning to irritate me."

Ryou stood quickly, swaying slightly as it took sometime to register his new posture. He threw out an arm to catch Bakura but stopped, remembering the events of last night. A glance into the madness-tinged eyes told him he had made a wise decision.

He hung his head and offered a soft farewell but hadn't expected to have his chin tilted upwards. "Gods… sometimes you really piss me off," Bakura. He lent forward again and pressed his lips against Ryou's. The café owner sighed as their lips met and his eyes drifted shut. Like before, a gentle but firm request for a deeper kiss convinced Ryou to open his lips softly. He welcomed it and wanted to drown, but it ended too soon. Whimpering softly at the loss, he looked up into the eyes of the spirit. "Stupid…" Bakura muttered darkly and he turned swiftly away from Ryou. Before Ryou could protest, the door to his shop slammed shut and the enigmatic Bakura was gone once again, just as the sun's rays peaked over the horizon. Again, Ryou fell back into his chair with a soft 'fwump' and he brought a hand to his lips. They were bruised, he was sure. His breathing had yet to slow as well. Swallowing thickly, he pushed those thoughts from his mind and made ready to welcome the morning's customers.

The clouds of the previous day had lifted, allowing the day's light to burn away the chill. Delicate swirls of steam wafted their way off the pavement and the rivulets of water that had previously streaked down the window pane began to thin until only a few pitter patters of raindrops were left. Ryou drifted to the widow, once again reaching a hand out to adjust the _Open_ sign. His eyes widened when he realized he hadn't changed it the night before. After some contemplation, he nodded and flipped the sign to _Closed_. Maybe he needed a day off…

* * *


	4. Jolt!

**aidez-moi à vivre  
by Halys**

* * *

Ryou believed he had a fairly normal life. He had a routine that he liked to stick to: Wake up at 4:30am, eat a petit breakfast, tidy up his small apartment above _Amane's_, and go down to prepare for the morning's customers. If he had a late night the day before, he would simply rest in one of the many comfortable couches as he awaited the morning rush.

He liked his well ordered life; it kept his mind off the screaming that would sometimes haunt him. Screams of the past that he didn't want to hear.

The morning after Ryou discovered the true nature of his frequent visitor deviated from his normal routine. His alarm failed to sound, leaving him to sleep until late, and it was not a normal awakening for the pale man either. Instead of either waking up in a cold sweat induced by dreams of screaming or waking up with no recollection of dreams at all, the café owner awoke from a vivid dream with his stranger's name on his lips. Ryou had shot up in bed, eyes wide, and chest heaving as he gasped for air. Shifting slightly, Ryou found his lap wetted by the effects of his dream. He scowled and got out of bed, taking his dirtied sheets with him to wash.

After he had showered, dressed, and finished his normal quotidian preparations, the pale haired man walked down to the comfortably golden café where he was greeted by a multitude of soothing swirls of caffeinated concoctions. Taking in a deep breath, Ryou's features lightened. He walked over to the bronze countertop, running his fingers over the cold smooth surface. Behind him, on the wall, were several clean cloths. With one of them in hand, Ryou gently cleaned away stains or residues that had been left the night before.

Slowly, the cloth traveled from the counter to one of the nearby machines, lovingly polishing each area to a glossy shine.

Some would say Ryou was obsessed with the perfection of his café, and in a way, they were right. _Amane's_ was Ryou's entire life, and it showed in each gleaming surface.

Once Ryou had finished his ritualized cleaning of the counter, he busied himself with making a cup of steaming coffee. He brought a cup down from a near by shelf, and placed it near one of the coffee bean grinders. A loud whirring sound filled the small shop followed by wafts of sinful scents. Once the beans of choice were ground to a fine powder, they were moved to a petit filter. Picking up an undersized hand press, Ryou compacted the coffee as tight as he could, tapping the coffee canister against the counter to ensure each grain stayed put.

Ryou turned back to his cup and inside he drizzled lush, gooey caramel from a container across from the coffee machines. When the appropriate amount was added, Ryou brought the cup back to the machine, placed the pressed coffee in its proper partition, turned a knob, and out of a nozzle trickled a dark liquid.

After the last drop descended into Ryou's cup, the pale haired man grabbed a spoon from a marked drawer and delicately stirred, blending the coffee and caramel expertly. **(1)**

Ryou brought the drink to his lips. A few sips, and Ryou nodded, deciding that it would suffice.

A soft sigh escaped Ryou's lips as he glanced around his café. _Amane's_ really was his entirety. He had never once in his life wanted anything else; his recollection had never been dominated by anything other than his livelihood. But as Ryou gazed at his distorted reflection in the brass countertop, the young man came to realize that was no longer true.

Ryou sighed again, this time undoubtedly, there was a slight wistful tone in the exhalation of air. If he was honest with himself, Ryou would understand that the specter, Bakura, had somehow taken a hold of his mind.

Scowling at himself for the second time that day, Ryou turned away from the counter and walked over to his usual chair. He set down his beverage on a near by table and extended his arms in the air. Ryou's toes pushed his form upwards as he stretched. Finally, he leaned back and collapsed bonelessly into his chair with a soft 'fwump.'

The young man with mithrail hair felt a sense of frustration with himself for not doing anything. If he simply sat there, the entire day would be wasted. But with the café currently closed, Ryou did not have much else to do. The idea of giving the shop a cleaning came to his mind, but a quick glance around told him that it would be unnecessary. Everything was neatly in order and spotless. No speck of dust lay on any part of the fixtures that made up _Amane's. _

There was no television in either Ryou's apartment nor in the café for him to watch and neither was there a radio. Ryou considered reading, but all the books he possessed had been read at least thrice.

Ryou's fingers drummed on his armchair as he pondered an activity. But none came to him, only an image of ochre eyes and silver hair. He allowed his mind to succumb to the image for the lack of anything better to do. Bakura was becoming a fascination for him, and Ryou didn't know what to do about it.

Finally he stood and decided up doing something he had not done for quite some time. He rushed to the back room where a pair of stairs ascended to the second level of the building. At the landing on the second level was a door to a closet. Ryou opened it, grabbed a warm jacket, and descended the stairs once again. He hurried out the door.

After a twenty minute walk down the street and around a few corners, Ryou arrived in front of an old building. The façade was discolored marble and held a similar architecture to much of the style of the West. Stairs led up towards the entrance and above the double doors was an out-of-place neon sign announcing the purpose of the edifice.

Ryou hurried up the stairs of the library and inside where he was easily surrounded by a multitude towering bookcases. He glanced at the signs above each section before finding the one of choice and heading towards it. The scent of mold, paper, and dust filled his nostrils and he ran a finger along a row of thick novels. He paused, his finger hovering over one of choice, and he pulled it out. Ryou grabbed a few more of the thick books from the nearby shelves and then wandered over to a secluded corner. There rested an old oak table that matched much of the other furniture in the library. He pulled up a chair, slipped into it gracefully, and set his books on the table. A soft scratching of wood on wood followed as he pulled the chair up to the table and into a comfortable position.

Time passed silently in the solemn surroundings while Ryou's eyes skimmed page after page, volume after volume, searching for a specific name. The stack of books on his left, symbolizing those that he had already perused grew as the stack of unread books on his right shrunk. If Ryou was the type to become discouraged, that time would've have already passed as the clock by the front desk continued to tick ominously.

Finally, Ryou came to the second to last book in his unread pile. By this time, his hope in finding the information he sought was diminishing. He rifled through a few pages aimlessly, not really caring to pay much attention. Then, as he flipped past one page, something caught his eye. His fingers quickly turned back the page to make it more visible, and the pale haired man nearly gasped. There, after many hours of looking, he had found what he had been looking for. At the top of the page, in bold lettering, was written the word "Bakura."

Ryou's eyes skimmed the page, drinking in all the information it gave. The entry was brief but was enough to give him some insight into his nightly visitor.

**_Bakura Susumu _(2)**_ (1845-?)_

_Born in 1845 to a small farming family that lived on the outskirts of Kyoto, Bakura left his family after a fire consumed their land. He traveled to the city of Kyoto where he managed to procure a sensei in the art of samurai. How he was able to garner the necessary power or money to gain a master is unknown, though it is assumed by most historians that he was a talented thief that may have been responsible for a series of robberies in and around Kyoto between 1854 and 1860._

_Later, Bakura became a member of the rebel group, the Choshu (now Yamaguchi). During the time of civil conflict after the arrival of Matthew Perry and the West in 1860s, this group of samurai fought to keep Westeners and other outsiders out of Japan as well as supported the emperor against the Tokugawa shogunate. They fought against a rival clan of samurai known as the Shinsengumi, who supported the Tokugawa shogunate. _

_In 1864, while planning an attempt to burn Kyoto, promininent members of the Choshu were assissinated in an attack on the Ikedaya inn by the Shinsengumi. It is unknown if Bakura was prominent enough in the Choshu to have attended the meeting, though after the incident, he dissappeared from Kyoto. It is assumed that he was also killed in the attack._ **(3)**

Subtle tears gleamed on Ryou's dark lashes as he finished reading the entry. So his visitor, Bakura, had been killed in one of the most famous historical events in Japanese history. He could've almost laughed at the thought that while the historical community searched for information on this person, a young café owner was being visited nightly by him. The poor man, Ryou thought. Obviously he had some reason to remain among the living. Why else would he stay? And why would he be in Domino city, which was some 20 miles from Kyoto?

Even after learning the information that he did, Ryou still had many questions. So many questions.

He stood up from the chair, leaving behind the other books and picked up the one that he had just finished reading. Bending the corner of the page where Bakura's name stood in bold lettering, Ryou closed the book quitely and headed to the front desk to check it out.

**mnmnmnm**

Night settled silently upon _Amane's_, finding it's owner once again asleep in one of its comfortable chairs. This time, there was no delicate melody of rain hitting the roof or the occasional reverberations of thunder. The sky outside was clear and shown with the incandescent glow of stars. No moon gave aid to the light of the stars, though along the street outside, the electric illumination of the street laterns helped make the street better to navigate.

Inside, Ryou's chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. He was once again lying on a soft couch that molded to his form. One hand barely held onto a book as it dangled over the edge.

Silently, a translucent form made its way over to where Ryou layed. It gently pulled the book from Ryou's fingers, bringing it up to glance over it. The figure's eyes widened and then narrowed as it saw the nature of the book's contents.

"Reading up on me, eh? Hm…" the insubstantial man spoke.

Bakura leant down, as much as a spectre could, and trailed his semitransparent fingers along Ryou's pale cheek. They moved to flutter gently over dark lashes and then buried themselved in Ryou's soft hair.

"I hate you…" Bakura whispered. "You're not supposed to be here… **I'm** not supposed to be here. Yet here we are…. She's right, you know. You are beautiful, in an odd sort of way, I suppose…Too pale, though… "

The ghost continued his muted monologue, keeping his voice low to keep his presence unknown. However his presence wouldn't be hidden for long.

Ryou sunddenly jolted awake and he flung himself into a sitting position, chest heaving, a cold sweat forming on his brow. His soft green eyes rapidly scanned the room, and when he saw nothing, his heart slowed it's excellerated pace and his breathing relaxed.

"Well… That was unexpected."

The café owner nearly shieked, but a formless hand covering his mouth prevented him from doing so.

"Now now… we don't want to wake the neighbors…"

Bakura removed his hand from Ryou's lips, and Ryou could still feel the cold, tingling sensation that had engulfed his mouth as it was covered.

"Bakura…" he breathed.

The spirit picked up the book again, and questured towards it as he "sat" down in a nearby chair. "Doing some research. I can't say I dissaprove, I suppose. It prevents you from asking some unwanted questions. But I'd prefer you'd stay out of my buisness."

His ocher eyes took on a steely glint of warning.

"Sorry…" Ryou murmered. "I just… I just wanted to know more about you…"

"Hn." Bakura didn't reply. Instead, he stood, drifting towards the café counter. Instead of going around the corner to the other side as most would, he simply slipped through the brass and wood barrier and appeared on the other side.

"So…" he started. "Why a coffee shop? Why not something more interesting. Doesn't it get boring in this dump?"

Ryou bristled in response. He was very protective of his café, his livelyhood. "Please don't refer to my café as a 'dump.' I feel it is a fine establishment and I work hard to keep it that way."

Smirking, Bakura picked up a coffee cup from a nearby shelf. "Fine establishment… Hm." It was rather odd, seeing the cup nearly floating on its own, in mid-air.

Suddenly, the cup went flying across the room, shattering against the opposite wall. Ryou jumped to his feet, and scrambled to the shards, quickly picking them up.

"Why the hell did you do that?" he shouted.

He was only answered by coarse laughter that filled the small shop. "Fine establishment? Fine establishment, you say? This piece of shit shop happens to be built on the remains of my family! My family, that was burned to the ground by those bastard wolved of Mibu! **(4)**"

Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura continued his tirade. "Burned! While I was out playing in the rice fields, those fuckers burned my family to the ground! My mother, my father, my sister! All because they had sheltered some homeless ronin! **(5)**"

Tears streamed down Ryou's cheeks, and he was surprised to see that the same was happening to the ghost. He hurried to the man, and wrapped his arms around him despite knowing that the action was a death wish. But, instead of receiving a tongue lashing or being at the end of some form of violence, Ryou found that the man in his arms was trembling.

"I'm so sorry…" he murmered to Bakura.

"Shut up… You can't do anything about it… For fuck's sake, you can't help me. So stop trying." Bakura growled. He turned his eyes away from Ryou in attempt to hide his tears.

"I won't stop. I couldn't do that. I promised."

Bakura snorted, and shifted out of Ryou's arms. Ryou was surprised to find his arms empty and tingling. He looked up into Bakura's ocher eyes and stood as well.

"Why do you keep coming back, if it hurts so much?" he asked, stepping closer.

Growling, Bakura sneered at Ryou, who stopped in his tracks. "Because I have no choice. Like I said already, you think I want to be here? You think I **like** coming back here? No, I don't. But I am bound to do so."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be! Shit… You're hopeless."

Ryou's head hung in shame, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. He was at a lost to say anything. His heart ached for the man. Inside, Ryou was in a turmoil of questions and fears that he had for Bakura; he wanted desperately to help, but didn't know how.

Before he could do anything more, two slim and translucent fingers guided his head upwards. "You have to stop fucking trying to help people who don't need and don't want it. There's nothing, really, that you can do for me. Nothing. So stop fucking beating yourself up about it. She'll get pissed at me if I let you cry…"

Ryou open his mouth to ask another question, but was silenced by a pair of lips. He was engulfed in the sensation of burning and freezing at the same time, and his eyes slid shut. The young café owner soon found himself being pushed gently back into a chair and a pair of hands ghosted over his chest. Bakura had no need to remove Ryou's clothing, only having to shift through the layers to trail translucent fingers across the hidden skin.

Bakura's fingers glided downward, resting on Ryou's thighs as they broke the kiss. Ryou's lips remain parted as he tried to take in air. The cool lightness that rested on his legs made his muscles twitch slightly and he was utterly confused by how someone so incorpral could affect him so much.

"Bakura…" he breathed before his lips were covered again. This time, the hands on his thighs travelled further inwards to where Ryou's body heat eminated the most. Ryou's eyes widened drastically and his body tensed as seemingly freezing nothingness wrapped around him.

The burning sensation covered Ryou completely as Bakura's gifted, ghost hands glided over him in a slow, torturous pace. He felt his cheeks flare and his hips rise off the chair in response.

He felt the wonderful heat grow inside him to an almost painful extent, the euphoria overwhelming. Bakura's lips slowly travelled to Ryou's ear and as they nibbled gently, Ryou could not hold back any longer and felt himself crash with a strangled cry. The coolness left his body and Ryou was left to gasp for air, eyes shut tight with wave after wave of rapture wracking his body.

"Damn… You're loud…" Bakura muttered. He glided backwards a few feet and gazed at the gasping café owner. The clock on the wall chimed soflty, annoucing the approaching dawn. Bakura's shoulders slumped slightly and his gaze moved to the windows, where the first glimmer of dawn was beginning to peak over the horizon.

Heaving a sigh, he drifted towards the doors but was stopped by a voice. "Please. Don't go…"

The spirit rolled his eyes and turned back to Ryou. "I can't stay."

"Please…" Ryou pleaded, eyes filling with tears. "I… please…"

Bakura's aura flared suddenly and he shouted back. "Damnit, Ryou! I can't fucking stay! So don't ask!"

Blinking rapidly, Ryou fell silent. Bakura opend his lips to say something, but shook his head, changing his mind. He moved quickly towards the door of the café and slipped outside, once again melting into the shadows.

Ryou was left to wipe away his tears and ponder the evenings transgressions. Suddenly, he began to question in his mind what had just happened. Had that indeed been real?

His heart wrenched and he tried to dismiss all thoughts of the night. The café owner stood and hurried upstairs to his appartment, tears still trickling down his pale cheeks. Ryou rushed into his bedroom and thew himself on his bed, allowing his mind and heart to cry himself to sleep.

* * *

**1:** This happens to be my preffered coffee drink and is made exactly how my friend makes it at the café I hang out at.

**2:** Susumu is a name take from the manga/anime _Peacemaker Kurogane_, a historical fiction set in the same time period of Bakura's death. _Peacemaker Kurogane _is an awesome historically accurate manga/anime with beautiful art. I recommend it to anybody.

**3:** Aside from the information regarding Bakura, the entry here is historically accurate. The incident discussed is called the Ikedaya Affair and took place on June 5, 1864.

**4:** The Wolves of Mibu, or the Miburo, is another name for the Shinsengumi. They were given this name after the town they originated in and some ruthless tactics they once used.

**5:** Samurai that had no master, ie no formal training in swordsmanship. Those familiar with the anime/manga _Rurouni Kenshin _might know this term.

**Review responses: **I'll respond to those of you who leave detailed reviews or something more than "That's great! Write more!" though I do appreciate all reviews given.

_kasbaka:_ Yes, I love the café atmosphere myself, and so I often hang out at one. And thanks for the compliment. Your reviews are encouraging. :)

_Hyacinthus:_ Yes, the BakuRyou C2 is fine, 'cause that is the pairing of the fic. Thanks:)

_Evara Silvaen:_ Well, despite writing your own type of fiction, I'm glad you enjoyed this story. Even if you can't adequately judge the fic, any comments are helpful. :)

**Thanks to everyone else!

* * *

**


	5. Cradle

_This is fan fiction: A work written by a fan for amusement purposes only. No monetary assets were gained from the distributing of this fiction. _

_There is a reason that this work of fiction is rated Mature. For those who are not comfortable with sexual content between two men or do not understand such content, please do not continue to read this story.

* * *

_

**aidez-moi à vivre  
By Halys **

**

* * *

Ten Years Earlier… **

_It had been a sunny day, with a gentle, warm breeze. He and his sister had decided to leave the apartment to window-shop at the local shops. Hand in hand, they walked down a busy street together. They had passed an ice cream parlor earlier, so in his sister's hand was a partially melted cone of chocolate delight. Twin smiles accompanied two heads of pale hair._

_"Brother! Let's go over there!"_

_"Aa!"_

_She had seen a small kitten, hiding in the corner by an alley, and sympathized. Discarding the remnants of her cold treat, she stooped to pick up the cat and cuddle it in her arms. He was glad to watch, slipping his arms around her waist. _

_"Isn't it cute, Brother?"_

_"He's very cute. Adorable!"_

_"Do you think Father would let us keep him?"_

_"No, you know how much he doesn't like pets."_

_"Aww!"_

_An odd scent, carried on the warm breeze began to pass by them. Moments, later, cries of fear and pair began to drift by._

_"Brother! Look! There's a fire over there!"_

_Indeed, a glow filled the gloomy alley. Shadows flickered in hues of yellow and orange along the walls._

_She gave a cry, and dashed out of his arms, making her way to the source of the blaze. Disregarding her brother's shouts of warning, she forced her way into the building, covering her mouth to avoid breathing the already smoke-filled air._

_"There's someone in there, Brother! I have to help them!" had been her muffled response as she disappeared into the building._

_He ran after her, shouting her name, just making it to the door before he began to choke on the black smoke that came from within. The edifice gave a low groan of labor and he could see that the burdened building was beginning to strain against its foundation and supports, barely able to hold itself up._

_Tears filled his eyes as he strained to see through the smoke, all the while calling her name. No reply came, and in the growing heat around him, all he could hear was his own screams._

_The building rumbled again, just as charred wood began to drift down from above. Falling to his knees, he continued to scream his beloved sister's name. Finally, as the raging fire licked at the sky, the building gave in, crumbling to the ground before him as if in slow motion. He backed as far away as he could, now becoming surrounded by other spectators, and his streaming tears blinded him as they forged down his soot-stained cheeks._

_"AMANE!!!!"_

**mnmnmnm**

Slowly, Bakura Ryou opened his green eyes, bringing up a hand to wipe away the tears. The memory and constantly reoccurring nightmare remained fresh in his mind as he began to awake. On the nearby bedside table, his alarm clock read "6:30am." Groaning softly, Ryou tried to shake himself of the dream, but it remained persistent.

Ryou forced himself to sit up. He had awaken in this manner several times before and wasn't about to let the old memory hold him back. The young café owner had made a promise that he would not break. Thus, he hoisted himself out of his bed and made his way to his bathroom.

In truth, the recent reminder of past events was an almost welcomed distraction to the goings on of the past few days. But as Ryou walked lethargically into the bathroom adjacent to his chambre, and glanced in his mirror, what had happened the night before suddenly came rushing back to him.

The cold hands, slowly drifting down his body, making him feel emotions he had never experienced before.

"Bakura…" he murmured, leaning in slowly towards the mirror. They were so similar in appearance that he had only to imagine himself with darker eyes… Ryou's lips brushed the cool glass gently, and the coldness of the mirror did not seem to register in Ryou's mind. After all, his nightly specter had no warmth either.

As the images of last night continued to flicker in his mind, Ryou's hands began to move on their own, gradually moving downwards. His breath became ragged and the café owners tongue flickered out past his lips to leave a wet trail on the mirror.

Ryou whimpered softly to himself, his fingers wrapping around the part of his body that currently emanated the most heat. Again, he dragged his tongue along the mirror in front of him, disregarding that his body was pressed against the bathroom sink.

"Bakura…"

Huffing softly, Ryou's fingers began to move faster, the movements more intense.

"Bakura…"

As the overwhelming sensations continued to assault his senses, pleasure searing through Ryou's veins, the spirit that haunted his café unrelentingly remained in his mind.

Finally, a strangled cry spilled from the café owner's lips as he gave into the emotions that wracked his body. Ryou went weak in the knees from the exertion. His dirtied hands moved to tightly grip the edges of his sink, but he could not find the strength to hold himself up. Sliding to the floor, he knelt on his knees in front of the sink and continued to tightly grip the edges. He sobbed, tears flowing steadfast down his cheeks once again and his whole frame began to shake.

His sob filled cries rang off the tiled walls as Bakura Ryou collapsed on the floor and in on himself.

"Amane… Bakura… It's not fair!!!"

**mnmnmnm**

An hour later found Ryou downstairs, behind the counter of his coffee shop. Again, a rag in hand, he lovingly cleaned the brass top, bringing it to an impossible shine. But as he did so, he kept his eyes away from his distorted reflection and focused his attention elsewhere.

The jingling of the doorbell announced a new arrival, and Ryou turned his attention towards the front of the store. His green eyes widened in shock and he saw a familiar figure stumble inside – alone. Mouto Yuugi walked slowly to his normal corner and collapsed bonelessly into a chair, tears streaming down his cheeks. Immediately, Ryou dropped his cloth and hurried to his friend.

"Yuugi-kun!" Ryou wrapped his arms around the shorter man, in an attempt to comfort him. "What's wrong? Where's Atemu-kun?"

To Ryou's surprise, Yuugi's tears increased tenfold. Now that he had mentioned it, Ryou realized that an important feature remained missing from Yuugi's side. Where was Atemu? As far as the coffee shop owner could remember, ever since the two had met, Yuugi never went anywhere without his lover.

"Shh… There, there…" Ryou whispered softly in his soft accent, all the while, rocking Yuugi gently. "Shh… What's wrong? You can talk to me, Yuugi-kun…"

Indigo eyes lifted to meet Ryou's, and the café owner could see the pain reflected deep within. The heart wrenching dullness in Yuugi's eyes was as clear as crystal and it nearly took Ryou's breath away. Immediately, all the events of the morning were gone from Ryou's mind as he looked into his friend's eyes.

"I… He… He's gone…" Yuugi sobbed, burying his face in Ryou's shoulder. Ryou had to shift slightly, moving to sit on the small table in front of Yuugi's table to relieve some of the discomfort that came from kneeling next to Yuugi's chair.

"What do you mean, he's gone?" Ryou asked softly, keeping his tone gentle yet inquiring. He gave the crying man a gentle squeeze.

If it was possible for Yuugi to cry more, he did so, and Ryou soon found his shoulder soaked with tears. "He's gone! I couldn't save him! I couldn't! And… and… it's all my fault!!"

Ryou continued to gently rock Yuugi, wisely keeping his lips shut as Yuugi began to haltingly tell the tale of the night after Ryou had last saw them. If Ryou remembered correctly, the night had been slick with fog. From what he could pick out between Yuugi's sobs and cries of anguish, the two had been on their way to their scheduled date. As the walked across the dark street to the restaurant they had reservations at, a drunk driver swerved onto the road with Yuugi in the car's direct path. Atemu had pushed Yuugi out of the way in time, but not soon enough to avoid the drunk's path. He had been hit head on. When Yuugi had run to him, Atemu's chest had been crushed, but before the older man heaved his last breath, he managed to slip a ring onto Yuugi's finger and whispered a soft "I love you…"

Tears began to sparkle in Ryou's eyes as well as Yuugi finished his story. But for once, Ryou had a strong grip on his emotions. Yuugi had always been a kind, caring man, and Ryou wasn't about to let an earth-shattering event such as this break him.

"You know..." Ryou whispered soft, taking one of Yuugi's hands in his. He noticed a small, golden ring glint on one of Yuugi's fingers and wasn't a fool to wonder where it had come from. "I believe that even if we can't see the ones we love, and even if they have left this world, they are still with us in some way. And I know for sure that Atemu-kun loves you too much to leave you in this world alone."

Yuugi looked up, his tear-filled eyes meeting Ryou's. "Really?" he hiccupped softly.

Ryou nodded. "Not only is he here, somewhere with us, but he is here too." Ryou took Yuugi's be-ringed hand and placed it over Yuugi's heart. The white haired man gazed intensely into Yuugi's to make his point clear.

The shorter man shook his head slightly. "Yes… he's there… that's why I won't ever be able to love anyone else…"

"Don't say that, Yuugi-kun. That's the last thing Atemu-kun would've wanted. He loved you, so much that he wanted you to live while he had to die. That means he would've wanted you to continue living your life. And if love comes into your life again, Atemu-kun would've wanted you to pursue it. You're meant for greater things, Yuugi-kun, than to give up on love and life." Ryou's voice surprised himself. Never in his life had he spoken with such conviction, and he couldn't help but inwardly smile. _I'm doing what you would've wanted me to do, Amane…_

Yuugi gave a nod and sniffled softly. His pale lips quirked into a would-be smile, and the café owner returned with a gentle smile of his own. "Now… I'm sure that Atemu-kun wouldn't have wanted to see you here, all teary eyed. What do you say I get you something to drink while you go clean up in the water closet, ok?"

The shorter man gave another nod, and stood, dusting himself off nervously. "D-do you really think that… that Atemu is watching me? That… that he would be ok with it, if I fell in love again… I swore that... that I'd never love anyone but him…"

The café owner wrapped his arms around his friend once again, in a comforting embrace. "Was Atemu-kun ever the type to prohibit you from making friends, or did he keep you from doing things you love? He wasn't the type, was he? And as far as I could tell, Atemu-kun would never have kept you from being yourself. He had always wanted to see you happy. And I know, from the bottom of my heart, that he still loves you, but doesn't want to see you unhappy."

Tears welled up in Yuugi's eyes again, and he brought up a fist to hastily wipe them away. He sniffled softly. "Thanks, Bakura-kun… I… I don't know where I'd be without you or this café."

Ryou smiled at Yuugi again and watched him walk towards the restroom. Once he heard the sound of running water rush through the pipes over head, signaling that Yuugi was using the bathroom faucet, Ryou wandered over to the counter again and busied himself with making Yuugi a cup of black coffee.

_Neither would I, Yuugi-kun… Neither would I…_

**mnmnmnm**

Night fell swiftly and silently on _Amane's_, as foggy and shrouded as the first night Bakura made his appearance. After Yuugi had gone, Ryou had been left to his thoughts. Again, he tried to distract his mind, this time by writing another letter to his sister.

_Dear Amane, _

I miss you…

Ryou's green eyes lifted from the page, and he found his mind nearly as blank. His gaze roamed the small coffee ship before resting on the smashed cup lying near the back wall. Yuugi's earlier anguish had forced the shards from his mind, but now came the time to remedy that. Ryou wandered across to the china-strewn floor. He stopped, pale fingers deftly picking up each piece and laid them in the make shift pocket Ryou had made out of his towel-apron.

Suddenly, one of his fingers slid against a sharp edge, and Ryou gave a startled gasp. He withdrew his fingers to his mouth so his lips and tongue gently removed the blood that came to the surface. Once he was certain the cut would no longer be a hindrance, Ryou continued his cleaning and then walked towards the garbage to dispose of the broken cup.

Heaving a soft sigh, Ryou moved back to the counter, brought out a rag and began to compulsively clean the brass top. His eyes, however, remained on the clock. The torturous long hand slowly moved closer to the twelve as Ryou watched with baited breath. Midnight eventually came and passed, to Ryou's dismay. He dropped his cloth and bustled to the door to gaze out the window. Mist clogged the dark street and as Ryou's jade colored eyes scanned the shadows through the fogged window panes, a stray cat dodged by. Wind blew at the door, rattling the panes slightly, and Ryou's hands paled on the cold glass.

_Where are you? Bakura?_

A screech of wood on wood sounded behind Ryou and he whirled around to find his nightly visitor sitting in a chair, samurai robes spread out around him. The specter smirked.

"What? You expect me to come through the door every time?"

Ryou gaped at Bakura. "I… just thought…"

"Did your parents never tell you bedtime stories?" Bakura let out a low, dark chuckle. "I'd tell you to give walking through walls a try, but it might prove difficult in your state. A shame, really. It's a rather enjoyable activity, so you're missing out."

Ryou, however, continued to gape, until the morning's occurrences, coupled with those of the night before, came to mind. A dark pink tinge came to the café owner's cheeks.

Rolling is metaphysical eyes, Bakura stood and slowly drifted towards Ryou. With translucent hands, he pushed Ryou into a chair. "Cat got your tongue, Ryou-dearest?" smirked the deceased ronin in a tone of mocking.

Ryou blanched slightly and gazed up at Bakura, only to flush yet again.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were a woman." Bakura's words finally got a reacting, other than a blush out of Ryou.

"…I'm not girly…" he said softly, eyes traveling towards the ground.

"Sure, and I'm alive…" the ghost snorted, a transparent hand burying in Ryou's hair. Bakura tugged at the white strands, forcing Ryou to glance up in time enough to see into Bakura's dark eyes before his lips were captured in a kiss. This time, Ryou was prepared for the shock of cold against his lips. The familiar tingling sensations began to travel through Ryou's body, but he had to pause the kiss to breathe. Their lips, however, remained close enough for Ryou to feel his breath reflected back towards him.** (1)**

"Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?" he whimpered softly.

"Fool…" Bakura grumbled in response, and pressed his lips against Ryou's again. The spirit's hands moved forward, covering Ryou's and sinking into the café owner's skin, effectively possessing Ryou's hands. With the control he now had, Bakura was able to experience the slew of emotions that overwhelmed the smaller man. The deceased ronin paused, allowing Ryou to breathe and allowing himself to briefly morn his inability to feel.

Then, Bakura began to direct Ryou's hands, slowly moving them downward. Before Ryou could gasp in surprise, his mouth was covered yet again by the ghost's. Ryou's controlled hands continued to move downward, pausing to slowly unfasten the buttons and zipper on his trousers before moving inside.

A low whimper escaped Ryou's mouth as his hands began to move torturously slow. A million thoughts ran through his mind, but when the spirit paused their kiss again, allowing Ryou to breathe, the café owner could voice only one thought.

"Don't stop…" he murmured, pleadingly.

Suddenly, Ryou's controlled hands stopped their movement, and he discovered that they had returned to his own command. He voiced another whimper and looked up at Bakura, who's eyes were looking at Ryou, but not truly seeing him. It was as if the ronin was lost in thought.

Ignoring his own need, Ryou stood, pausing only to hastily close his pants and then turned to Bakura. He hesitantly reached out a hand, only to see it travel through Bakura's chest.

"I… I have to go…" Bakura said suddenly, his voice distant. And he rushed forward, his entire being sweeping through Ryou's body as he went. The overwhelming sensation of the ghost traveling through his entirety sent Ryou's head swirling. Darkness closed in on Ryou and he fell to the floor.

Bakura, with his thoughts elsewhere, did not notice as the café owner passed out, and he sped through the door. He didn't even bother to open it.

Time passed again, though not as slowly as it had seemed to earlier. When Ryou awoke, he found a slip of white paper on his chest.

_1274 SE Daimeryan_** (2)  
**_1:00 am.

* * *

_

**(1):** Because Bakura cannot breathe, and because Ryou has the ability, at times, to make physical contact with the dead, when Ryou breathes, his breath is reflected back at him by hitting Bakura

**(2):** Stolen shamelessly from a friend of mine. Go check out the fics by Daimeryan Rei. She's great. :)

**A note:** I write for my own enjoyment and for the enjoyment of others, however if you find that certain subjects in my stories are uncomfortable or upsetting, I encourage you to stop reading. However, please don't react rudely if you read something here that you do not like.

* * *

**Review Replies:**

Sabrina: I'm glad you're enjoying the fic so far. Your questions are very encouraging, and they will be answered eventually. :D Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

Bake-san: Indeed, his hands did ghost over Ryou. This time, however, they did more than that, and I hope you are continuing to enjoy this story. :)

Eien no Ai: Yes, they are both a bit confused, even more so after this chapter, but I hope you are still liking the fic. Thanks!

MagandaOta: Stop it, you're making my ego swell. :) Tendershipping, or Yami no Bakura x Ryou Bakura happens to be my one true pairing as well and I strive to write them as in character and as wonderfully described as possible. I'm pleased that you think I'm doing my job.

Lin West: Unfortunately, on this site, quality fiction has diminished greatly, but I'm glad you think that I'm one of those few:) And, wow! I've been compared to Ocean. I take that as a great, great honor. Thank you!

Juvenile Phantom: Isn't _Peacemaker Kurogane_ an awesome series? History is one of my passions, and I enjoy sharing it through my writings. I'm just glad you don't think it's too boring. :D

Thanks to everyone else who replied, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story, as I'm having a blast writing it!


	6. Chill

Can I get a HOSHIT for this update? Yeah, I know it's been a year, but such is life. Anyway, I hope everyone likes this chapter. Hopefully another will be along soon!

* * *

_This is fan fiction: A work written by a fan for amusement purposes only. No monetary assets were gained from the distributing of this fiction. _

_There is a reason that this work of fiction is rated Mature. For those who are not comfortable with sexual content between two men or do not understand such content, please do not continue to read this story.

* * *

_

**aidez-moi à vivre  
By Halys **

* * *

Ryou never pretended to understand love. If he did, he would have been pretending to comprehend an emotion he had never experienced. To Ryou's knowledge, he had never been in love nor was he aware that anyone loved him. 

It was not that Ryou disbelieved that love existed; Ryou believed quite the contrary. He knew love existed, and had seen it with his own eyes as it bloomed in the lives of his friends.

No, Ryou definitely believed in love. He simply didn't believe love existed for him.

Heavy rapping on the glass window panes of _Amane's_ entrance woke Ryou that morning. Shouts of his name drifted through the door towards his ears, as he began to stir. Groaning, Ryou sat up and tried to grasp his bearings. Why was he in the café? Why hadn't he been sleeping upstairs, in his apartment?

Ryou shook his head. Someone was still banging on the door. He forced himself to stand, ran a hand through his tangled hair, and straightened his clothes, hoping to make his appearance more suitable.

Satisfied, but only barely, Ryou hurried to the door and unlocked it. The person on the other side rushed inside the care and embraced Ryou suddenly.

"Uh, Ishtar-kun, are you all right?" Ryou asked, confusion coloring his voice.

Malik released Ryou, and began to inspect him. Lilac-colored eyes took in Ryou's appearance, tanned hands traveling his body to check for injuries. Embarrassed by the sudden onslaught of familiarity with a man whom Ryou was only distant friends, the café owner stepped out of Malik's reach.

"Ishtar-kun?" he questioned.

Malik's features beheld his concern and fear. "Bakura-kun, I've been knocking on your door for twenty minutes! I could see you inside, lying on the floor! Are you alright?"

"I… You were?"

Nodding, Malik guided Ryou to a chair, and pushed the smaller man into the cushions. "I arrived early, hoping to grab a quick cup of coffee, but you were closed. I looked inside, and saw you lying on the floor. I thought maybe you were hurt! I had been just about ready to call emergency."

Ryou shook his head, and tried to understand why he had awoken where he had, and why he couldn't remember what had happened the night before. He tried to stand, but was pushed back into his chair.

"Uh-un," Malik said. "You're staying put until I make sure you're alright."

Resisting against the hands that held him down, Ryou tried to stand again. "Ishtar-kun, I have to get up, change, and make ready the shop for customers! I have to open the café!" He pushed free of Malik's grasp but only managed a few steps before he was enveloped in Malik's arms again.

"I can't let you do that," Malik murmured, his voice dangerously close to Ryou's ear. "Why can't you let someone take care of you, for once? Please… Ryou…"

It took a moment to register Malik's use of his first name. He froze, surprised again by the change in Malik's familiarity. The stronger man took the opportunity to push Ryou into his chair again.

"Ishta—" Ryou gasped, only to be cut off.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Malik," he said, smiling softly.

Ryou merely stared at him. Sunlight streamed through the front windows and lightened the blond's hair. His lavender eyes glinted with concern and another emotion that Ryou couldn't ascertain.

"Ish—I mean Malik-kun… I-I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"

A sigh escaped Malik, and he took a seat adjacent to Ryou. "I'm not allowed to be worried about you?" he asked.

The smaller man shook his head. "No… I-I mean yes! It's just… you…"

Before Ryou could continue, Malik leaned forward and settled his fingers gently on the curve of Ryou's chin. The café owner's eyes widened once more, as Malik continued to lean forward and pressed his lips against his. Too shocked by the gesture, Ryou did not respond.

Malik sat back, and turned his gaze away from Ryou. "Look," he began, his voice a mixture of annoyance and nervousness. "I don't really do this whole romance thing, and I don't reach out to people a hell of a lot, but you... I guess I couldn't help it. Sorry."

Ryou watched the blond for some further sign, but when it became evident that Malik was not going to move, he reached forward and rested a hand on Malik's shoulder.

"No, I should be sorry, Ish—I mean Malik-kun. I hadn't realized… I had never thought that someone would care for me… Like that…" Ryou's gaze shifted downward as he spoke, and a blush rose to his cheeks. "I guess I didn't see the signs."

Malik smirked, gracing the smaller man's chin with his fingers again. "How 'bout I give you a clearer sign, then?" Before Ryou could respond, he was wrapped up in another intimate embrace. Malik's lips were moving against his, slick and warm. Ryou tried to focus on the heat coming from the other man, holding him, but images came to his mind, unbidden.

Ryou's fingers slipped into Malik's blond hair, but what Ryou saw was pale locks like his own. Dark, imaginary robes were in Ryou's mind's eye as his other hand gripped Malik's shirt. Malik was too warm, too warm, and he should've been colder.

The taller man moaned Ryou's name as he kissed his way along Ryou's jaw, and suddenly Ryou came to his senses. He threw himself from Malik's embrace, landing hard on the floor.

"Ishtar-kun, I can't… I shouldn't be doing this…"

Malik blinked in astonishment, not understanding Ryou's sudden behavior. "Ryou…" he bent down, offering the smaller man a hand up.

Shaking his head, Ryou stood on his own, waving the hand off. "I can't…" he murmured, biting his lip. "I just…"

"I understand, Bakura-kun. I should've inquired before taking such brash behavior. I should've figured you already were seeing—"

"Please don't…" Ryou interrupted, making his way back to Malik. He stood in front of the other man, hands closed together but warmth was in his eyes. "I'm not seeing anyone, if that's what you were suggesting. I just can't be involved with someone when… When I could not give them my heart."

Malik strode forward, and gently brushed away the tears that had begun to silently slip down Ryou's cheeks.

"I'm sorry… Malik-kun."

The taller man's eyes lightened. "I don't understand, Ryou, but… That's alright. If I have to, I'll wait. No, don't shake your head like that. I'm not a big emotion kind of guy, but what I say, I mean. My feelings are like my word, which I never break."

There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Ryou nodded.

"Good," Malik smiled. "Now, how 'bout you get cleaned up while I get the café ready to open."

"Malik-kun, are you sure…"

Smiling more, Malik threw his arms open. "How hard could it be? I clean a few dishes, turn on the coffee makers, and turn the sign around, right?"

"But…"

"Get out of here! Get going, and get cleaned up! I'm sorry to tell you this, Ryou, but you smell like you need a bath."

**mnmnmnm**

The remainder of the day was spent showing Malik the inner workings of the café. Three plates and a bottle of vanilla syrup had been broken, but Ryou hadn't laughed so much since his sister was alive.

Malik Ishtar was kind, considerate, and caring; if not a little brash. However, Ryou enjoyed his company. It wasn't long before Ryou began to slowly open up for the Arabic man.

Night was beginning to fall on _Amane's_ again, and Ryou knew he had to send Malik home, or at least, back to his bike shop. It took a little coaxing, and the promise of another get together, but Ryou managed. Then, he was alone in his café again.

The quiet drips from the espresso machines and soft creaking of the old building permeated the evening air. Ryou kept himself occupied by cleaning the dishes. The rag in his hand swished inside cup after cup, removing coffee grime and sugar grains.

When he finished, Ryou glanced at the clock. It took everything he could to not sigh expectantly. Instead, he turned to his coffee machines. From a counter beneath, Ryou pulled a small tool box. He set it near the machines, and pulled out his rag again. There was a soft "whoosh" of air, as the young café owner released excess steam from each piece of equipment. Then, Ryou ran his cleaning cloth over each coffee maker, lovingly polishing chrome and jet surfaces.

Once he was satisfied that his coffee makers were properly cleaned, he set aside his rag. He opened his tool box, and began to carefully service them. Silence filled the café except for the clinks and ratcheting of Ryou's handiwork.

Suddenly, the clock on the wall announced its presence. Twelve chimes filled the café, and Ryou sat down his tools. His jade eyes traveled the length of his coffee shop, as he waited with baited breath.

Nothing happened.

Ryou frowned, confused. This was the first in many nights that his ethereal visitor had not arrived on schedule.

Then, there was a dark chuckle at his ear, and Ryou spun on the spot, nearly dislodging the tool box on the counter.

"Bakura!"

The spirit gave no response, except for picking up a wrench and examining it. "Been busy, I see…" he said, a smirk forming on his translucent lips.

"I… How are you?" Ryou asked quietly, taking the wrench from Bakura and placing it back in its box. He closed the box and replaced it beneath the counter.

"Well, I got up and took a nice bath. I had a wonderful lunch at this nice ramen stand down the street. Got some house work done…" Bakura tapped his chin in mock thought. Then, he whirled suddenly and pushed Ryou against the counter. He pressed his face close to Ryou, so close that the café owner could feel the chill emanating from the ghost. Bakura growled and ran his frigid lips over Ryou's ear, brushing back pale hair with a sweep of his hand.

"What do you think? I'm dead."

An involuntary shudder passed through Ryou. The incorporeal body pressed against his almost overlapped the clothing he wore. Before he could speak, Bakura's lips covered his. There was a pause as all Ryou felt was a frigidness against his lips. He whimpered softly and the chill increased. Bakura pressed himself harder against Ryou.

Bakura broke the kiss suddenly, and Ryou gasped for air. Heat rose to Ryou's cheeks but it did not compare to the heat that was traveling downwards. His heart raced as it strove to rush blood to embarrassing areas of the café owner's body.

The ghost in front of him let his eyes roam Ryou's body, traveling lower until they came to the obvious bulge in Ryou's khakis. He looked up again, and seeing the dark blush coloring the café owner's cheeks, Bakura smirked all the more.

He leaned forward, his freezing lips brushing Ryou's ear again.

"You little fool…"

Ryou let out a choked cry. The spirit had taken control of his hands again, and was using them to pull at Ryou's shirt. Ryou struggled vainly but soon the article of clothing was removed.

"So, you really like this…" Bakura hissed before sliding his intangible tongue over one of Ryou's nipples. The younger man shuddered heavily, the sensation almost unbearable. Still, Bakura continued to manipulate Ryou's hands, forcing him to unbutton his own pants, and push them downwards. Ryou's hips bucked on their own accord and he cried out again as Bakura's frozen lips moved to encompass him. Ryou's own hands kept him from bucking into the startling cold that settled around him. All too soon, it was over, and he came.

Ryou opened his eyes, surprising himself that he had them closed. He looked down, as Bakura slowly came up to meet him, and was confused by the lack of mess he should've made. Soon, the rushing of blood against his ears died down, and he could hear Bakura's dark laugh.

"A present, since this is the last night I'll be dropping by," the ghost said.

"I… but, why?" Ryou pleaded, hurrying to pull his pants back up.

Bakura drifted through the café counter, and made his way to the door. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Unfinished business."

Frowning, Ryou quickly fastened his pants, and ran to follow Bakura. But he was stopped as a cruel look crossed Bakura's features. "Don't you fucking think about following me!" he snarled.

"But I…"

"Drop it!" the spirit continued, and then disappeared out into the night.

Tears spilled down Ryou's cheeks as he didn't even bother to hold back his sobs. His knees buckled under him, and he fell to the floor. Bracing himself on his hands and knees, Ryou let his sobs take hold. His fingers clenched against the hard wood floor, forming fists. At that moment, Ryou realized his had a slip of paper crumbling in his grip.

Surprised, he sat up, and wiped away his tears. He glanced down at the scrap of paper in his hand, and read the address on it. The memory of the night before came back to him.

Ryou quickly and unsteadily got to his feet. He glanced at the paper again, and the out the glass windows of his café. It took him only a minute to make up his mind, and then he hurried to a closet by the stairs to his apartment, withdrew a coat which he hastily put on, and then, ran towards the door. Without a second thought, he locked the café up behind him and hurried down the dark street. He only hoped he would make it in time.

* * *

First: Bet you didn't see that coming. :P 

A big thanks to everyone for the reviews. Unfortunetly, due to fanfictiondotnet's policy, I will not risk story removal because of review replies. However, I'll try and get my lazy rear moving and reply to each comment via that little reply button.

: ) Likewise, review please?


End file.
